


Nel Mezzo del Cammin

by insomniz



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series)
Genre: Altered Mental States, Angst, Blood and Gore, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Hallucinations, Panic Attacks, Psychological Horror, Violence, a lot of references to Dante's Inferno, and all goes to shit, they investigate for a supernatural episode, they're best friends and really need each other in this one, y'all ever heard of Poveglia? yeah don't go there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-06
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2020-06-23 17:00:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 18,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19705627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/insomniz/pseuds/insomniz
Summary: Everything was an omen about Poveglia.They went anyway, and now they have to face the consequences.





	1. Selva Oscura

Ryan was seeing signs of misfortune and bad luck everywhere. He couldn’t help it.

Everything was an omen.

Shane spilled coffee on his pants? Bad luck. Their plane was an hour late? Bad luck. Encountered a dead rat on their way to the location? Bad luck. Ryan stepped in shit? He was going to die tonight for sure.

Shane didn't take the omens seriously, as always: he was just interested in the potential humour of the fact that Ryan had stepped in shit. And no matter how loud Ryan barked, it seemed all he would ever do was laugh.

Right now, their main issue was that they couldn’t find a place to eat at; they’d been seemingly walking in circles for hours now, eyeing everything in awe. All the restaurants were packed with people. Thankfully, the sun had settled behind grey threatening clouds. Shane had insisted on putting sunscreen anyway. His excuse was: “I’m a white guy. I can’t appeal to italian demons if my first impression is one big red lobster, that is, if they exist! Ghosts, not lobsters. Lobsters are very real.”

They were true American tourists in the city on water. Venice was a labyrinth. Every small street sparked Ryan’s interest, and he wanted to make the most of this day in the city.

 _It’s okay if we accidentally end up lost in this city,_ he thought. _It’s okay if it costed us an arm and we actually don’t go there. And it’s okay if we miss our meeting with Alessandro. This was such a bad idea, I never should have offered to go._

Back in California, it seemed surreal, funny to tell himself that he’d be brave enough to actually go to Poveglia Island. Now it was too real. In a few short hours, Shane and him would be alone on the most terrifying island in Europe because bringing the rest of their crew, Devon and Mark, wouldn't be as discreet.

But they couldn’t just stay in beautiful Venice forever. Both of their stomachs were growling now. Ryan didn’t feel so good. And the pit in his stomach wasn’t solely attributed to him being hungry. He was tense. His mind was going through all the scenarios of _How we could die tonight._

“What’re you thinking about, Bergara?”

Shane must have smelled the literal tension coming from his best friend. Devon and Mark were pacing in front of them, but Shane had slowed his own pace to match Ryan’s.

“Pizza”, he lied, not wanting to have Shane mocking his apprehension or even acknowledging it. “I’m starving.”

Okay, that wasn’t a complete lie. Ryan _was_ starving. A long walk in Venice’s streets without having eaten breakfast was by far one of the worst ideas he’d ever had. Apart from actually going to Poveglia, of course. Yeah, that was definitely first in his list.

Shane hummed along, positively.

“Same. I’d sell my soul for a margherita.”

“Do you really have to make jokes like that now?” Ryan whined, shoving him lightly with his elbow.

“I have to make jokes like that especially now,” he exclaimed. “Also, do you think they have Hawaiian pizzas on their menus?”

Ryan chuckled, his eyes crinkling softly. Shane wasn’t completely blind, and talking to him was actually working: Ryan felt like he knew how to breathe again. For a few seconds, he wasn’t thinking about the spirits, the demons, and the ghosts that they could possibly encounter on this island.

“Please don’t ask them if they put pineapple on their pizzas. The Italian State would be expelling us sooner than expected.”

Shane ended up directly looking for Hawaiian pizzas in the menu, and being extremely disappointed to see that there wasn’t. He didn’t even want to order one; but he was constantly winking at Ryan across the table to grab his attention, as if he knew his friend was staring at his pizza with a mournful look. That was probably the last pizza he’d eat in his life.

“Hey, you with us, Ryan?”

He snapped back to reality as Devon was calling his name and asking if he had texted Alessandro yet, because they needed to be sure if he could still take Shane and him on his boat. Ryan dreaded doing this. Dreaded having to think about it. He couldn’t just say: “No, I’m not going to do that because we just flew to Italy for nothing: I won’t go there.”

His pizza, for once, wasn’t such a bad omen. It was quite delicious. Shane was cracking jokes as ever, the place Devon had found was cozy and everything was great. So why was Ryan always over-exaggerating things when there was nothing to fear? It was just a scary place with a haunting past, and they would be there for only one night. At seven am exactly, Alessandro’d be here to escort them back to Venice.

He just had to be in the moment instead of already thinking about what would happen. So Ryan ignored the signs, bad or not, and took a bite of his pizza.

* * *

Alessandro texted him a few minutes after they left the pizzeria to assure him that he was still on board for this. He had just signed Ryan’s death sentence without knowing it.

Ryan was so absorbed into the text that he didn’t even register his friends turning onto another street. All he could focus on was his phone as his legs kept on walking, almost mechanically. God, the fantasy of Alessandro telling Ryan that visiting the island was impossible would have been a massive relief... But now, it was official. In a few hours from now, they’d be illegally sailing to Poveglia. They’d be committing a crime, but far worse in Ryan’s mind, they were going to die there for sure.

Eventually, he looked up, only to see that the small street he’d been taking lengthened, leading him to an isolated little church. Shane, Mark and Devon were nowhere to be seen.

Ryan was lost.

Panic was quick to settle into his chest, but he tried to brush it off. He had his phone in hand, for God’s sake! He just had to call them. Except he was in Europe with a foreign cellphone and it would be too goddamn expensive.

Maybe they had wanted to visit the church and were waiting for him inside. Yeah, this probably was it. A church was exactly what he needed before going to literal Hell.

He hurried, as he felt the walls close in on him. The street was narrow, too narrow, and his shortness of breath made Ryan anxious to find his friends as quick as possible.

But out of nowhere, like it had emerged from a wall on his side, a silhouette blocked the way. Ryan came to an abrupt stop, startled into a mini-stroke. Looking up to stare at the silhouette’s face, his eyes met a Carnaval mask that sent chills in his spine.

“Sei smarrito, ragazzo?”* a feminine voice said, but the silhouette’s lips hadn’t moved.

This didn’t even come close to something that Ryan could have associated to spanish and tried to translate. But it was a question, that much was clear. He then realized there were two other masked silhouettes standing behind the first one blocking the street, heads put on the first one’s shoulders as if resting. One of them was obviously a man dressed in a shiny costume, and the other two were women in black dresses.

He opened his mouth to croak out a “Io non parlo italiano”, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him, making him jolt. He turned, ready to confront another masked silhouette.

“Hey Ry, there you are!”

No mask on Shane’s calm face, no costume except for his ridiculous Hawaiian shirt. He looked truly relieved to have found Ryan so quickly.

Shane’s big smile and gentle crinkling eyes were a maybe even creepier sight: it was as if he didn’t see the three silhouettes that were facing Ryan. But when he turned to point at them frantically, they had disappeared. He was just pointing at the church, far away at the end of the street.

“Uh… You okay?” Shane asked, frowning lightly. Ryan looked on the verge of a panic attack.

“N- Yeah, no, did you not see them?”, he scrambled with words, throwing erratic glances left and right.

“Who, the masked people you were talking to?” he asked innocently, as if Ryan hadn’t had the panic of his life just now.

“Yes, them! So you saw them too?”

“Ryan, calm down, dude. I saw them scram as we approached you.”

Ryan wasn’t exactly calming down. He already had that face he made when he was scared, wide eyes and raised eyebrows, similar to that of an alerted small animal; and they weren’t even on Poveglia yet. Shane bit his lips. Tonight was going to be a long night. A sleepless night.

He was used to it, by now. And most importantly, he had taken a good dose of coffee prior to their night there.

“There are plenty of masked people in Venice. That’s literally the only place on Earth where that would be considered ‘normal’.”

“I thought- I thought you were in the church…”, Ryan breathed.

Shane was right on this one. There was no need to be afraid. But he had been startled and lost: he just couldn’t help it.

“Nah dude, we took a turn and you didn’t, you were probably looking at your phone.”

“By the way, did Alessandro answer yet?” Devon asked, totally not setting back up every stress alarm in Ryan’s body. He contemplated lying for a fateful second, but everyone’s eyes were on him, waiting.

Stupidly and bravely, Ryan inhaled and told them his answer was positive. They’d sail out to Poveglia tonight, before dawn.

* * *

Shane slowed his pace again when he saw Ryan dragging his feet. He didn’t look that excited to go on the island tonight. In all honesty, neither was he. Doing something illegal didn't exactly give him chills, but he would have preferred to stay in the hotel with Devon and Mark, rather than spending a night on an island in ruin, surely with feral animals wandering through the woods.

But it seemed to matter to Ryan. So where Ryan went, Shane followed. Someone had to keep an eye on the small guy.

“What did they say to you?”

Ryan was lost in thought, he only hummed interrogatively.

“The masked people. I saw them talking to you.”

“Oh, they spoke in italian. I only understood ‘ragazzo’, ‘boy’."

Shane whistled in admiration. The pronunciation was far from perfect, he guessed, but he wasn’t aware Ryan knew bits of italian.

“Where did you learn that, ragazzo?”

Ryan made a disgusted face, as if Shane had cursed, but actually chuckled. _Mission accomplished, Madej,_ Shane thought. Each joke he made that made Ryan relax before going on location was a little victory.

“I’ve bought an english-italian dictionary when we arrived”, Ryan said, his tone full of pride, as he opened his bag to reveal a small tourist dictionary.

Shane immediately understood why Ryan hadn’t shown it to him in the first place. He was probably waiting to wield it on Poveglia.

“Don’t tell me you bought an italian dictionary solely to speak to ghosts.”

“Not- Not just for ghosts…”

There was a silence between the two, where they stared at each other knowingly.

“Okay, it was just for the ghosts. We’re professionals, right? They won’t understand two Yankees from 2019.”

“So what, you plan on asking them ‘How was your day, ragazzo?’ and other very interesting enquiries? It won’t matter if you speak english or italian, because ghosts aren’t-"

“You’ll thank me when I prevent you from being possessed thanks to our guide here” Ryan cut in gracefully, brandishing the small dictionary.

“I mean, it’s not totally useless” Shane conceded after a short silence. “I could finally tell them about the Internet.”

“Oh no, you’re not gonna have it” Ryan batted his hand away as if he was going to steal his dictionary. “You’d just use it to curse me or tell ghosts to harm you.”

“Touché” he smirked with a playful look in his eyes. “Know me too well, Bergara.”

They didn’t talk anymore for some minutes of just walking through Venice’s streets. The streets talked for themselves, busy with people speaking different languages, different words mixing into one big comforting chaos. Shane was basking in the few rays of sun piercing through the clouds. This was something he’d miss greatly on Poveglia. Devon and Mark had a quicker pace, but they weren't that far. It allowed Shane to talk to Ryan about the fear he tried to hide before shootings, a fear that Shane was never totally oblivious to.

Ryan was still fiddling with his phone.

“You’ll be fine, Ryan. I’ll be there too, if that’s a comfort.”

“Why do you think I offered you to come host with me?”, he answered, a corner of his mouth raising slightly into a gentle smile.

Shane smiled as well, closing his eyes.

“Hypothetically. If you were to choose between the dictionary and me, who would you save from the mean ghosties?”

“Ha. Probably the dictionary”, Ryan laughed. “You’re certainly not the one who’s gonna teach me how to speak sweet italian to ghosts.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Sei smarrito, ragazzo?"* = "Are you lost, boy?"


	2. Vestibolo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate!  
> (Abandon all hope, ye who enter!)

The orange of the setting sun announced the time of departure. As it slowly came closer to the water of the lagoon, Ryan wished he could stop time. The island was visible, far away. Looking perfectly normal and undisturbed.

It was risky, of course it was. It was illegal. Maybe that was why it sent waves of thrill into Ryan’s pulsating veins.

He had to grip onto the boat as he jumped in it. Not because he was going to be seasick, but because he had to steady himself. He was already shaking uncontrollably and didn’t want someone to ask if he was okay. That would only make things more difficult.

Shane wouldn’t shut up. He was reassuring Devon about being extra careful with the stuff, cracking jokes about the boat breaking down on their way to Poveglia, a thing Ryan’s mind had already been picturing. To be honest, he’d rather be stuck on a boat in Venice’s lagoon with a blabbering Shane than on the island with him mocking demons.

Alessandro jumped on the boat as fishermen were throwing him the ropes that had once held the boat on deck.

“You’ve ever been on Poveglia?” Ryan asked him, raising a camera.

Alessandro hesitated before nodding. He was eyeing the camera nervously.

“We can turn off the camera if you prefer.”

“No, it’s okay”, he replied. “Once, when I was younger, I went there with a friend despite every legend I had ever heard. We-”

He stopped. Alessandro was suddenly very pale.

“We got lost on the island. That’s about it.”

Shane chimed in from the front of the boat where he was standing.

“See, Ryan? No ghosties involved.”

“Shut up Shane”, Ryan immediately bit back, pointing the camera at his tall friend. “This screams ‘ghosts’ more than anything!”

“So you getting lost in Venice also screams ‘ghosts’?”

“This isn’t- Oh, forget it”, Ryan pouted, turning off the camera and putting it in his backpack.

“Let me be clear”, Alessandro warned them. “Once we’re there, I drop you two and your stuff, but I won’t put one foot _su quest’ isola dannata._ ”

Ryan didn’t need his dictionary to translate this. _This damned island._ Even Alessandro was too scared to even land even one foot on the island. He had seen him talking with two older men sitting at a table playing cards. When he had uttered the word ‘Poveglia’, the look on the old fishermen’s faces had changed. A somber look. They had started speaking in hushed voices, throwing side glances at Ryan and Shane. _That’s maybe the right moment to panic,_ his brain had whispered.

“You’ll have to carry your stuff out yourselves”, Alessandro continued as if Ryan wasn’t melting in front of him. “I’ll be back tomorrow at 7 am and I’ll be waiting for you at the precise spot where I left you. If you’re not here within the hour, I won’t be looking for you.”

“Okay”, Shane replied simply in a light tone that sent shivers running up Ryan’s spine.

How could he be so calm about this? They would have no means to get off the island if one of them was injured. So many things could happen to them: the ruins could fall on them at any moment, they could encounter a feral animal, they could be possessed by demons… And what if they couldn’t find the spot? What if they were late?

Ryan would not be strong enough to survive another day on that island. He wasn’t even sure he was be strong enough to survive one day there. They paid Alessandro nevertheless. Ryan was under the impression he was giving two oboles to Charon before he’d help them cross the Styx.

“I can’t believe we’re really going there,” he whispered more to himself than anyone, looking at his hands as Shane joined him to sit in the boat.

They were slowly leaving Venice; Devon and Mark were becoming mere silhouettes waving at them.

“And I can’t believe you bought this.”

Ryan raised his chin to look up at Shane, only to see him wearing a bird mask, the one doctors wore during the Plague. His heart stuttered before pumping back to life twice as fast.

“Motherf-!!”, he cried, clutching his chest. You almost gave me a heart attack!”

“So soon? Wait for us to be on the island before I capture your death on camera, Ry’!”

“This is not fucking funny, Shane!”, Ryan exclaimed, forcing him to take the mask off. “This was supposed to be worn only to try and contact those infected by the Plague!”

“Let’s be realistic there, Bergara. No ghosts in their right mind would seriously think we’re doctors from that era. Even with your dictionary. They didn’t even speak modern italian!”

“Fine, we’ll see who was right when ghosts will tell you to fuck off in ‘modern italian’, Mister I-know-it-all!”

The corners of Shane’s mouth twitched, and he smiled, suddenly looking smug.

“Bold of you to assume I won’t be the one telling them that.”

Ryan froze.

“Yeah, that’s right”, he added as Ryan reached for his backpack. His dictionary was not in it. It was in Shane’s hand. “I’ve been reading your precious dictionary and now I’m an expert. Ever wondered how to say ‘Fucking demons’ in italian?”

“You- I can’t believe- No!”

Ryan grabbed it from Shane’s hands like a mother would grab her baby from a stranger’s hands, and pressed it to his chest tightly.

“They won’t- They won’t understand you, they won’t understand modern italian”, he stammered.

“Oh, I’m sure they’ll understand my hollering as ‘disturbing their slumber’ anyway, don’t worry.”

“‘Don’t worry’? Worrying is all I’ve been doing since we’re here, Shane! You’re just making it worse by threatening to taunt demons!”

Shane’s smug smile fell.

Grabbing the bird mask, the dictionary and his backpack, Ryan left his side to go sit at the back of the boat. Shane didn’t hold him back, didn’t reply, just let him go.

Being alone there with Shane was maybe not the best idea, considering how he liked throwing himself in dangerous situations. And as always, Ryan was the one reaping what Shane had sown.

He needed to be alone for some time. He needed to drown himself in the contemplation of the waves that the boat left behind. If he closed his eyes for enough time, maybe he could picture himself sitting in a gondola, swaying slightly as it navigated through the canals. Maybe he could forget entirely where he was going, what he was going to see. Slowly, he fell into a dream, head resting on his arms, rocked by the gentle movement of the boat.

But even in his dream, silhouettes standing on the pavement above the canals were threatening. Were becoming people in costumes, their faces hidden behind Venitian masks. Three masked people, whispering. One man in a shiny costume, two women in black. _Il lione, la lupa e la pantera. The lion, the female wolf and the panther._ Without knowing why, Ryan understood italian, in this dream. He understood the whispers and knew what the masked people were.

He also knew he shouldn’t look at the water, despite not knowing why or even how he knew this.

Their smiling masks always turned to him as if they were staring at him, and him only. The gondola Ryan was on seemed to always come back to the street where they were, as if the labyrinth had no escape. As if he was caught in a loop.

Strangely, Ryan wasn’t freaked out by this fact; he was calm. But something was building in his chest. An apprehension. An anxiety. A distress. The whispers were growing louder and louder. A voice joined them. Shane’s voice. Whispering too.

He was on the boat with Ryan, but wasn’t looking at him. He was showing his back to his friend, staring at the water. Something felt so, so wrong about this. Ryan reached Shane’s shoulder to get him to look away, but Shane turned around completely to face him instead.

He was wearing the bird mask again; he looked like a crow.

Ryan woke up with a jolt. Alessandro’s boat had slowed up because they were approaching Poveglia.

* * *

The sky was still blue when the boat came to a halt at the foot of the island. Shane had been bringing the majority of their equipment on solid earth alone, as Ryan was looking at the island with a blank stare, probably gathering his courage to get out of the boat. He would have to, at some point, because Alessandro himself didn’t seem at ease. He too was staring at Shane doing all the work without a word. Gripping the rosary he wore around his neck tightly. His knuckles were white.

“Ryan! You coming?”

He didn’t want to be that guy, but they had to begin their exploration and let Alessandro go back to the fishing port before night fell on the island.

“Yeah, yeah, I was-- Um I was-”

He was having a hard time already. Shane internally reminded himself to only taunt demons alone. _I’ll just wait for him to be in another room._

His first steps on the island looked as if his feet were burned by the soil.

Shane patted his shoulder. He knew how much this costed Ryan, even if he didn’t always understood why.

“You did it, Ry’.”

“I did it”, he repeated softly, slowly, sounding not so sure himself.

“You sure did it.”

The boat had been moored near the hospital, which seemed to be currently rebuilt, as it was covered in scaffoldings. Actually, it wasn’t the only building covered in scaffolding. Every one of them looked as if it was still worked on.

“I thought this island was abandoned”, Shane said, gesturing at the hospital.

“It is”, Ryan replied, his _'True-crime-investigator'_ tone back. “These scaffoldings you see, they’re from the 80s. The State tried to renovate the island, but now it’s trying to get rid of the island. I don’t think the workers are coming back any time soon.”

“Oh.”

Shane turned on his heels, taking in the sight of the spot they’d have to find the morning after. In truth, he didn’t know how a young man like Alessandro could have gotten his friend and himself lost on such a small island, where the spot was near a hospital with a bell tower visible from far away. Then again, the vegetation seemed to run wild on the majority of the island.

“I think we could begin filming here”, he offered. “Y’know, the part where you explain the story of Poveglia...”

Ryan seemed a bit calmer as he inspected their surroundings. They’d have a great view of the last minutes of sun on the hospital. Then, they could begin their investigation in the hospital and the chapel.

“That’s a great idea. We’d better hurry though if we want to visit a bit by daylight.”

A noise of motor running made them turn around. Alessandro was leaving.

“ _In bocca al lupo*_ , friends”, he shouted from the boat as he was going away. “See you tomorrow, 7 AM!”

Ryan slowly turned to face Shane. He was livid. Fear had returned, draining every colour he once had on his cheeks.

“Well, we’re fucked.”

“We’re not fucked, Ryan. I mean, we probably are. This place is infested with mosquitoes.”

“And ghosts.”

“Yeah yeah. And ghosts, if you insist.” 

* * *

“Your wide eyes betray you, Ryan”, Shane whispered behind the camera before he went to sit next to Ryan.

“That’s because I can’t conceal how terrified I am now. And you’ll be too once you hear the past this place has.”

“Okay then. Roll it up.”

Ryan inhaled sharply before beginning his usual monologue. 

“I know I say this a lot, but this location is perhaps the most haunted place we’ve ever been to. This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved Shane and I explore alone Poveglia Island, in Venice’s lagoon, Italy, as part of our ongoing investigation into the question: Are ghosts and demons real?"

Shane gave his usual little negative head shake.

"See what I did there. I added 'demons', because this place is probably full of demons."

"I see what you did there. But it didn't take me by surprise. Nothing can."

"You might wonder why Shane and I are alone on this god-forsaken island. Well, it's because it’s illegal to actually go on Poveglia, and we don’t want Devon and Mark to be arrested as well if we go down.”

“We’re committing a crime and showing it on the Internet”, Shane added, a big smile on his face. “We might be the dumbest criminals on Earth.”

“The reasons why the government doesn’t want visitors on Poveglia remain a bit dubious; of course, there is its current state: the whole island is in ruins and the works begun in the 80s never came to an actual end. The island was pretty much left to be forgotten when the State couldn’t sell it.”

“So… Italy _really_ wants to get rid of Poveglia, right?”

“Yeah, it- The island doesn’t exactly have a good reputation. Poveglia is the source of many legends and sayings. Most places we investigate don't have the most pleasant history, but I think this one really takes the cake."

Next to him, a chuckle. Shane imitated his commentator tone to repeat 'This one really takes the cake'.

"So without further ado, let's talk about the shady past of Poveglia.”

“Ooooo.”

“Don’t get all excited”, Ryan chuckled, though still a bit nervously. “It’s more of a ‘let’s send people here to die’ shady.”

Ryan began to explain how the island had been used as a place of quarantine for anyone suspected to be infected with the Plague. How it had always been a place for people to be isolated in, from 1760 to the modern era. After having welcomed victims from the Plague, the island had welcomed victims from the First World War, and in 1922, an asylum had been built on Poveglia.

“Patients here claimed they could feel and experience paranormal activities from the Plague victims.”

“Now wait a second here. There were- Those patients, they were mentally ill, right?”

“You’re gonna say their claims are wrong because they imagined it?”

“I’m just saying that this is not the best proof you’ve presented us with, Ryan. Patients in an asylum, hearing voices? Doesn’t that sound normal to you?”

“But the doctors too heard voices! What do you have to say about that?”

According to Ryan’s researches, a Swiss doctor operating there had also been hearing voices and had jumped from the bell tower. Whether he was pushed by ghosts to commit suicide or it was because he was sinking in madness, it was unknown and remained a legend.

“You said this doctor was doing lobotomies?”

“Yep. His treatment of mentally ill patients was cruel, to say the least.”

“Then he probably deserved it.”

“Dude!” Ryan whined like a puppy someone would have kicked mercilessly. “Don’t say that, what if he pushes us to jump too?”

“He probably won’t, you know why? First, cause I would never climb that bell tower. it's falling apart. And also, 'cause he’s dead, Ryan. The guy just wanted to commit suicide, he wasn’t pushed.”

“Well, I guess we’ll have to ask him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "In bocca al lupo" = expression used to say 'Good luck'. Literally means 'In the wolf's mouth'.   
> You usually have to reply 'Crepi il lupo" = 'May the wolf die!'


	3. Limbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10/26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a long chapter to apologize for the lack of updates! I'm currently busy looking for an appartment, so I hope I can update both NMC and YVOR on time. Hope you're gonna enjoy this chapter!

“You enter first.”

“No, you enter first, dude.”

“Aren’t you the ghostbuster of the two?” Shane said, pinching the bridge of his nose, a smile rising nevertheless on his lips.

“You’re also a ghostbuster, sorry to burst your bubble. And why would you be afraid to go in first if you don’t believe in ghosts?”

“I may not be afraid of ghosts, but I’m definitely not too keen of having the roof of this building fall on me.”

They hadn’t even casted a glance inside, but the fact that the hospital had scaffoldings against its walls spoke for itself. Shane was pretty sure a simple blow on these walls would be enough to make the building fall on itself like a house of cards.

“I’ll get you out if I think the roof’s gonna fall on you, don’t worry, big guy.”

“Yeah yeah, somehow I doubt you’ll do as you say”, Shane let escape.

“You don’t trust your old pal Ryan?”

“I think you’d rather get all wide-eyed and scream it was the ghosties’ fault.”

“Fine, fine, I get it”, Ryan grumbled. “I’m right behind you. If the roof falls on your big head, then it’ll fall on mine too.”

Refraining himself from pointing out how his comment was not necessarily the most comforting, Shane inhaled before entering the hospital. Not because he was scared, but because the place was dusty as hell. While they were filming some exterior shots of the building, Ryan had explained to him and to their viewers that the dust was believed to be ashes of the Plague victims or of the asylum’s dead patients.

 _Very nice,_ Shane thought. _So I’m breathing human remains that are three centuries old when this fucking dust gets in my nose. I guess that’s similar to what Lebowski felt when the wind brought back the ashes of his friend right in his face._

Ryan coughed as the first thing he encountered was a spider web. Batting away an imaginary spider, he pouted as Shane only gave an amused chuckle instead of a helping hand.

“This was such a bad idea.”

“Ryan, c'mon”, Shane gathered all his patience not to sound too annoyed or patronizing. “You’re not even in the hospital yet and I can already hear you making a fuss.”

“Wrong! My foot is inside.”

“If that can help you, the rest of the island is infested with spiders, bugs, mosquitoes and bats. This is just a hint of what Poveglia has in store for us.”

“And I bet the rest of the building is as creepy as this.”

Shane wasn’t the creeped out kind, but he had to agree with Ryan on this one. On top of being dusty, the room they had entered was filthy and led to an old staircase. Said staircase had probably lived longer than Shane and Ryan’s ages together.

The walls were covered with graffitis and pentagrams. To Shane, the scariest thing about the hospital was that homeless people could be living here and could very well attack them if they felt that two Americans were a threat. And it was clear that someone had been living here. Scattered objects from different time periods shared the rooms they visited. Most of them were untouched, covered in a thin layer of dust.

Ryan squeaked at the sight of an old wheelchair in a hallway. He overinterpreted every little thing his feet bumped on. According to him, everything in the room had been the property of a now deceased person, everything was the testimony of a dark time.

Shane’s stomach growled, making Ryan jolt and almost grab his friend’s flannel to yank him backwards, away from ghosts or rumble.

“It’s alright, Ryan, it’s just me”, he laughed. “I guess the paninis we ate weren’t enough.”

He heard him let out a long sigh of relief.

“I packed some water and cereal bars, just incase.”

 _God, Ryan, you absolute genius._ To be honest, Shane didn’t know what he would do without that little guy.

Usually when Ryan talked about ‘having survival skills’, it meant packing a Bible and a water pistol full of holy water, but sometimes it also meant packing normal water and cereal bars. And then, he saved Shane’s life in ways that were unknown to him.

The tallest one of the duo finished the investigation by day crunching loudly while Ryan complained that this wasn’t really respectful for spirits still wandering here. How could it matter to them? They couldn’t even feel hunger anyway. Shane’s stomach definitely could, given the way it had scared Ryan earlier. But to Ryan, the only thing ghosts could feel, that is, if only they were real, was jealousy towards Shane for being alive and hungry.

“We’ll leave some cereal bars for them to feast on, then.”

* * *

Night embraced the whole island, slowly, extending her dark arms over the woods and buildings in ruins, over two guys installing their equipment at different places. Going around in the buildings became more dangerous; the chapel itself threatened to collapse at any time possible. So there was no way they were going to visit that. They were supposed to come out alive of this thing.

They began by walking a bit in the woods, a decision they soon came to regret. Thorns and stinging nettle were already a pain in the ass; but there also was a shit ton of animals wandering, and Shane himself was startled at every little noise. Hopefully, they hadn’t really pushed too far into the forest, just enough to reach a plain Ryan wouldn’t stop talking about to the camera Shane was holding. Apparently, it was a lowland where a camp of plague victims had been, a long time ago. And this was where paranormal investigators claimed to have captured evidence about ghosts of plague victims.

In short, lunatics like Ryan had heard this place was probably a place of death for the plague victims and their minds had done the rest. But to be truthful, Shane could understand how their minds ‘did the rest’.

He had an eerie feeling about that area. Something he hadn’t really felt in the hospital, something new. It was probably from walking in the woods with the constant threat of being attacked by animals; it had put him on edge. Yeah, that was it. Shane wasn’t scared by a place simply because of the ‘energy’, the ’aura’, or whatever bullshit you could name it. Ryan was the one who believed in that crap.

But something about the way sudden silence had fallen on his shoulders after the woods, the way the light shone on Ryan’s bird mask and made it seem like the shadows were eating his deformed face, the way the fresh gush of wind pricked his exposed skin on his arms… Everything felt very wrong about this place. And Shane felt everything at once.

He couldn’t help but rub at his arms. It was easy to feel so much in the dark. Deprived of sight, they were forced to use the night vision of their cameras. The only source of light were their lamptorchs, Shane’s pointed at Ryan, Ryan’s at his dictionary as he was reading some sentences he had already written out on italian.

“Fuck, it’s difficult to read with this thing on…”

“Told you so”, Shane all but hissed in his direction. “I feel like a fool.”

Ryan looked ridiculous with his plague doctor mask on, so Shane assumed he looked equally as stupid as him. And a bit terrifying, he had to admit. Ryan had insisted to put them on and act as if they were doctors. _“To lure the plague victims out there.”_

“No plague victim’s going to believe that I’m a doctor from their era!” Shane complained loudly, to Ryan’s dismay.

“Shane, this is our only chance, so please just do it and shut up.”

The tallest one let out a long sigh, but cooperated with Ryan’s antics, saying the same sentence for some time with no answer ever. Still, the gush of the biting wind passed on his shoulders. And a shudder, too. But no need to tell Ryan. Soon, they’d get the hell out of here and go back to the hospital for more EVP sessions.

“Malati! Mostratevi a noi!” _(Sick ones! Show yourselves to us!)_

“You sure this is good italian?”

“The important thing is that they get the whole idea of me trying to contact them, so no, Shane, I’m not sure this is good italian, and frankly, I don’t care!”

He was tense. Since their arrival on this island, Ryan hadn’t captured one single EVP, not a single word uttered, not a single noise that could be proven to be paranormal. Sure, they didn’t get any whispers back from ghosts, but there was something building around them. Probably just the wind, the animals, anything really, but Shane wouldn’t ever let his brain think: ‘Ghosts’.

At first, he thought Ryan would feel it too, given how prompt he was to panic. Yet for once, it seemed that Shane was the most distressed here, and he did his very best not to show it. Blabbering was one of his favourite ways of concealing it.

“I could always provide with italian, if you need me to.”

Ryan tsked and got out his spirit box. Shane fucking hated that thing. Loud, obnoxious, useless.

One word he thought he heard, one uncanny sound, all of it made Ryan’s mind melt in no time, and then Shane had to actually turn off the cameras to prevent him from having a panic attack.

“Fantasmi”, he began, taking his mask off. _Thank goodness._ Shane was beginning to sweat in that thing, so he did the same. “Fatevi sentire.” _(Ghosts, make yourself be heard.)_

“Oh, so we’re leaving behind our doctors identity then-”

“-ao”, the spirit box cooed. Ryan literally jumped.

“Did you hear that?”

“That wasn’t even a word, Ryan”, Shane sighed, running a hand on his face. This was going to be a long night.

“It said ‘ciao’! It said hello!”

“It did not.”

The spirit kept on switching through radio channels, letting out some classical music passages or incomprehensible chunks of words, as if taunting Shane. Ryan was ecstatic. Shane was fed up. Then a low voice on the spirit box said almost clearly:

“Dotto- e.”

Ryan absolutely lost his mind over this almost immediately, grabbing Shane and shaking him.

“It said ‘doctor’, we must put the masks back on! I told you we had to do it!”

“I’m not putting it back because you thought you heard ‘doctor’.”

“It was clear as fuck, are you kidding me?”

They waited some more seconds for more words to come out the spirit box.

And waited. But ghosts seemed to have decided that this was more than enough.

“Okay, let’s try something else. You’ll play the part of a plague victim. I’ll be the doctor.”

Ryan spoke so fast Shane couldn’t quite follow, pacing equally as fast around the spirit box.

“I am not playing the part of the victim, Ryan. They know I’m from the twenty first century! Plague is no longer a thing!”

“What do you know? Maybe the Plague stayed on Poveglia!”, he joked, chuckling slightly.

His chuckle itself was nervous.

“Let’s go to the hospital then”, Shane offered.

* * *

This, too, was a bad idea; but at least it couldn’t be worse than staying exposed to the cold wind outside.

Ryan had been awfully quiet the moment he had entered the hospital again, probably because he was scared shitless. He looked like he was anyway. Paler than ever, his eyes wider than Shane had ever seen them, and incredibly fidgety. He turned his head randomly, as if hearing noises. He was just paranoid, as always, and looked truly relieved when all he saw was his tall, lanky friend, standing awkwardly in the frame of what used to be a door.

Not having had other evidence with his spirit box inside didn’t seem to annoy Ryan that much. On the contrary, he seemed perfectly fine with it. Shane couldn’t complain.

“Maybe the EVPs captured something”, he told Ryan in an apologetic tone, as if it was his fault they didn’t get any paranormal proof other than two choked up words outside.

Ryan nodded as he got out his sleeping bag of his backpack, but said nothing.

“You alright, Ry’?”, Shane asked, a bit concerned by his silence.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, he replied as he got out his sleeping bag. “Just thinking about the terrible night I’m going to have now. I can’t wait to leave this damned island already.”

“Well, it didn’t seem so ‘damned’ to me. We paid a lot and the ghosts didn’t deliver”, Shane snarled as he got inside his warm sleeping bag. “I didn’t even curse at them that much.”

“Thankfully”, Ryan sighed.

There was a short silence, only broken by the hurls of animals outside. For once, Shane didn’t think he’d sleep that well on a location. What if they got inside? Well, he’d wake up for sure.

Ryan was too silent. Shane wasn’t used to that.

“You know I’m right next to you, Ry’?”

“Yeah, I know big guy.”

“Good.”

Shane dreamt that he had lost Ryan in the island’s woods.

One moment he was walking alongside him, the other he was alone in the woods. Ryan was nowhere to be seen. But somehow, Shane knew exactly where his friend was, as if he had told him before going. Far away, he could see the bell tower and knew that Ryan was in the hospital, screaming and laughing maniacally. His voice could be heard on the whole island.

As Shane began running in the woods, the bell tower disappeared behind pines and trees. Soon enough, he was completely lost. Alone and lost, with Ryan’s laugh for only company. Almost mocking him. Almost mean. Impossible to be recognized as Ryan’s.

He woke up with a gasp, Ryan’s name on his lips.

* * *

Ryan’s night was restless.

He barely got a second of sleep, as his eyes were skimming the roof above his head for the major part of the night, sometimes finding a spot to stop on Shane’s sleeping form. It wasn’t a terrible night; it was an awful night. Something just couldn’t let him close his eyes and sleep. Something irrational. A fear. Although he didn’t hear one single lost voice from beyond, he was not appeased. He knew there was something lurking in the hallways, looking for Shane and him. Something that had spoken to them in the lowlands, that had called them doctors. Or something silent at first that had watched them enter the hospital.

But Ryan had no proof. The spirit box had basically fallen in static silence as soon as they had put foot into the hospital. A cruel silence he had mimicked himself, realizing he was becoming obsessed with trying to hear something. But he just couldn’t shake it off him, the need to know what was going on, even if he knew he was being a paranoid wreck.

And seeing Shane so calm was making him go even madder.

When the clock on his phone hit 5 AM 48, he decided it was useless to try and sleep. Shane thrashed a bit next to him, probably in his dream. He put a hand on his shoulder, slowly, to wake him up.

“Hey. Shane. We have to go gather the equipment we left behind.”

His soft eyes met his and he held his stare. He didn’t answer. He might have been a bit drowsy from sleeping; Ryan truly envied his ability to sleep so peacefully in the worst places ever. He looked at Ryan a bit funnily, as if he was surprised to find him at his side. Such a weird guy, sometimes. No wonder the fans thought he was a demon.

Ryan didn’t want to lose time, so it was with a quick step that they found the spots where they had left cameras or EVPs to capture evidence. They’d look at it on the boat, with Alessandro. Right now, all Ryan was wanted was a bed.

_Oh yeah. A soft bed with a pillow and pure silence and nothing else. It would be paradise._

Shane was slow to come back to him with the equipment, he even yawned as he passed in front of Ryan. Maybe not fully woken up. He hadn’t even noticed Ryan hadn’t slept in the least. Hadn’t even asked him. Just gotten up. Ryan, on the other hand, was way too fidgety and twitchy. Not sleeping one full night had that effect on him. And wanting to get off a haunted island too.

“Right. I think we have everything. Alessandro should be here any minute.”

Actually, they were early. It wasn’t even 7 AM yet, but if there was a thing Ryan wanted to avoid, it was to miss the appointment. So they waited.

And waited.

7 AM became 7 AM 15.

Then it became 7 AM 30. Ryan was pacing nervously, biting at his nails. Shane was speaking, but Ryan didn't hear one single word that came out of his mouth. Sure, he saw his mouth moving, but he couldn't focus, and it looked like he saw Shane through a glass.

Then it became 8 AM, and he began fully panicking. No boat was approaching Poveglia. No one was coming to get them.

If this was a bad joke from Devon and Mark telling Alessandro to wait a bit before going back to get them, then it was a very bad joke. Ryan’s heart was a stuttering mess in his chest.

“Calm down, Ryan. Who knows what got in his way? He’s coming, he’s just very late.”

How could Shane keep his composure? Ryan looked up at him and understood. Shane wasn’t calm at all. The look on his face said it all.

He was as panicked as Ryan, but tried not to show it.

“It’s alright, I can just call him, right?” Ryan got out his phone and began typing Alessandro’s number. But it ended on voicemail. Same thing for Devon and Mark. He couldn’t even call for emergency, in fact. The island seemed to be isolated from the phone network.

“My phone has almost no battery left”, Ryan whined, turning to Shane.

He was pale. As if stuck in ice.

“We need to preserve our batteries and find a spot where we can call them.”

“We didn’t miss the appointment, right? He said “tomorrow 27th, at 7 am”, right??”, Ryan asked, feeling his heart beating hard and fast.

“Ryan, I- What?”

“Fuck, we’re so fucked, we never should have-”

“Today’s the 27th? My phone says it’s the 26th”, Shane said flatly, showing Ryan his phone’s bright screen.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Shane’s phone was indicating ‘26th of October’. And his own phone was doing the same. As if they both were victim of a strange bug. This wasn’t a coincidence. It couldn’t be.

“I’m pretty sure yesterday was the 26th…” Ryan stammered, already out of breath.

“Pretty sure??”

“I’m sure!”, he exclaimed, clutching his phone.

There was a moment of silence between the both of them, only punctuated by Ryan’s harsh breathing.

“Then, if yesterday was the 26th, and if today’s also the 26th…” Shane didn’t finish his sentence, as if he was looking for the answer on Ryan’s face.

The noises of Poveglia were the only ones to reply.


	4. Lussuria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Genesis, xix

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the big delay,,,, due to me being temporarily deaf (don't we just love it), in holidays, my phone being stolen, i couldn't really take the time to sit and write the chapter. but i did and here it is! so hurray!

Shane was scratching the stubble on his chin. The breeze was brushing against Ryan’s skin, whispering sweet anxious things. His mind was running so wild he couldn’t even hear the silence between the two of them. Only his overwhelming train of thought.

And he could only guess that the same thing was happening to Shane, the way his brow was frowned, frozen in perplexion. He was now scratching at his shoulders. Maybe this was some kind of stress-reliever gesture, a habit. But Ryan had never noticed this about Shane in 6 years of friendship. He thought he knew his best friend pretty well, and yet, he had rarely seen him stressed. And they were on a ghost-hunting show together, so this was saying a lot.

Shane was that kind of guy who looked 100% laid back at all times. Like a sloth. 

_Yeah, that was it. Shane was like a gigantic sloth, ‘cause this animal had long limbs and a detached look on his face all day._ _As if nothing could get through to him. As if he was in total control of his emotions._

Of course this didn’t mean that he couldn’t feel stress, but at least he could conceal it well. Sometimes, or rather, often, Ryan wished he could do it as well.

He was on the other end of the spectrum: if he felt something, it immediately showed on his face.

They hadn’t spoken for something like ten minutes now. Just waiting. Agonizingly, eyes fixed on the lagoon, hoping, praying to see a boat coming their way. But it just wasn’t happening. The only thing changing was the fog covering the water. Its reflection made it seem like the lagoon itself was white. This vision made Ryan dizzy, without understanding clearly why.  _ Don’t look at the water _ , his brain whispered angrily, just like in his dream. 

But he couldn’t stop. Sometimes he thought he saw a black mass coming out of the fog, and his heart was pounding in expectation… But then the moment he blinked, the black mass had disappeared like it had never even existed in the first place.

“We should maybe move, now. No one’s coming, Ryan.”

The smaller of the two took the last sentence in. And it made him feel like he was going to burst into tears. They truly were stuck on this island.  _ Stranded, and no one was coming to get them. _ Alessandro should have been here two hours ago.

“Move where? This is where he was supposed to come. What if he comes and we’re not here?”

“We should find a spot on the island where we’ll be able to call for someone.”

Shane sounded tired and cranky. Ryan gave up and sighed. He was probably right.

“Don’t worry, Ry. We’ll find a way.”

Shane put his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“It could be worse. You could be alone here, or I could be alone without you. At least we have each other.”

He was getting all sappy, but in a weird way, it didn’t bother Ryan at all. On the contrary, for once, he needed this kind of behaviour coming from Shane. He needed these kind of soft gestures like a hand on his shoulder. Needed Shane to be with him. He didn’t bat his hand away or mock him as he would usually have done.

_ “Cos you’ve got a friend in me!” _

Unbelievable. How could Ryan ever believe that Shane could let himself be overtaken with stress when this idiot was singing absentmindedly  _ Toy Story  _ songs… He inhaled sharply and walked faster to avoid more bullshit coming from him.

* * *

Shane’s phone didn’t work near the hospital. It didn’t even leave them a single chance, indicating there was absolutely no way to contact someone. 

But this didn’t stop Shane, oh no. It was as if nothing could bring him down. He walked in front of Ryan and kept on saying they’d get outta here. The more he told him this, the more Ryan wanted to give up. There was no way he could pull an optimistic face in front of such a close friend. Shane knew him, he knew exactly what Ryan was thinking.

They arrived in front of the dilapidated chapel. Ryan’s feet were hurting, and his back too, from the weight of his backpack, and his heart too, from hoping he’d see a boat coming their way, and he was beginning to feel hungry. He kept his mouth shut, though. He didn’t want to look like a coward when Shane was doing his best not to look depressed.

“Wait! I have one bar!”

His tall friend brandished his phone like a sword, his face now lit up in joy. Ryan couldn’t believe his ears. They could call for help!

“Oh wait, that’s not enough. But we should check inside the chapel. I’m sure I’ll get more bars in there.”

“Are you outta your mind?” Ryan cried out. “Even if this chapel wasn’t haunted, I wouldn’t go inside if I were you! This building looks like it could collapse any minute now!”

“Look, Ryan. You can stay outside if you want. I’m not letting go of an opportunity to use my phone before it dies.”

And in he went, bending to enter a hole in the side wall. Ryan could only stare in horror. 

“Shane. Shane come back!”

He was not coming back. Well.

Ryan dug in his backpack for his flashlight and his Bible. Then, clutching both to his chest, he inhaled and followed Shane inside. He could not let that idiot kill himself.

“If you’re the reason we die, I swear I’m going to be so pissed off.”

“I think we’re in the sacristy.”

It looked more like Ryan’s grandma’s living room, but Shane was probably right. It smelled like it, too. Musty, dusty and dirty.

Their flashlights shone on the floor, suddenly showing things that were waiting in the dark. The whole sacristy had been plunged in darkness for years maybe.

There was mold on the floor, and the corners of the room reeked of piss. The hole in the wall from where they came had been someone’s idea before it was theirs. And it meant someone had been here before them, maybe even right now.

“Can we please go now? You’re not gonna find bars in this chapel, only troubled spirits.”

Shane didn’t answer, just scratched at his neck.

He left the sacristy and entered the interior of the chapel itself, Ryan behind him; it led them directly to the altar. Ryan pointed his flashlight at it. 

Oh, memories of Buzzfeed Unsolved episodes… To say he disliked exploring altars in the dark was an understatement. At any moment his flashlight could go out. And he’d scream. And Shane would laugh.

So he stayed silent as he approached it, not wanting to taunt any demon. His GoPro wasn’t even filming.

There was a Bible on the altar, open in the Genesis. Ryan got closer to read what passage it was open on.

_ The destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. _ Nice. Not at all creepy and uncanny.

“Shane. Come see this.”

The giant spared a glance from above Ryan’s shoulder, looking unmoved and a bit blasé.

“Sodom and Gomorrah. Aren’t those the cities of homosexuality? Are the ghosts trying to warn us about something?”

“You idiot. Yes, interpretations made them the cities of homosexuality but that’s not my point… Doesn’t that ring you a bell?"

Shane didn't look like it rang a bell in him at all.

"These are the cities that were left behind by God himself because of the sin of lust, the excessive need for an object or a person.”

“Yeah. And?”

Ryan slapped his brow.

“Poveglia is also a ghost town, or island. Strange, right?”

“You have your own Bible with you, Ryan, I don’t understand why you used this one to show me Sodom and Gomorrah.” Shane said, raising an eyebrow.

“It was open on this page, Shane! It wasn’t me who-”

Shane shushed him. 

“Did you hear that?”

It felt weird to hear this type of sentence in Shane’s mouth. Ryan froze, anxious, tense.

“No…?”

“It sounded like a mouse squeaking.”

“So you don’t give a single fuck about the spirits trying to contact us with this Bible?”

“And what did they want us to know? That Poveglia was a place of lust? Nice one, ghosts.”

He looked still nonchalant, his phone being the only source of sight as he walked the pews of the chapel. The only source of light? No. There was a gaping hole in the ceiling, which frankly looked like it was about to cave in, where ashes and light were penetrating the chapel. There were also lit candles, and-

Ryan stopped dead in his tracks, his heart stopping as well in his chest.

He called out for Shane, his voice wavering.

He had seen them as well. Two candles at the entrance of the church, far away from the altar, where they were both standing.

“There was someone here” Shane whispered, and Ryan swore he could hear fear in his tone. “Show yourself!”

Ryan couldn’t think or move. He was petrified. Maybe his deranged brain was inventing things? But then again Shane’s brain was too. And it was very unlikely. Shane was the most rational of the two, according to himself.

But right now, Shane was scratching vehemently at his arm, which made the light of his flashlight tremble. Ryan wanted to tell him to stop, but even his mouth couldn’t move.

A noise made both of them start. Shane’s flashlight fell on the ground. Its light went rolling on the walls, and the flashlight itself rolled between the pews. The candles’ flames flickered.

Ryan could actually see Shane’s brow; it was covered in sweat. It scintillated in a weird way in the darkness.

Then, there was another noise. As if something - or someone - was running towards them, running up the pews. Shane’s flashlight was swept aside.

Ryan barely heard it when Shane told him to make it to the exit, but thankfully for him, his tall friend didn’t bother and grabbed him in his sprint, forcing him to break into a run.

Pushed by Shane, Ryan was the first to enter the sacristy and scramble to his feet to pass through the hole. But right as he fell to the ground, outside of the chapel, he heard a loud rumble.

At first, he seriously thought the entire chapel was collapsing on itself, and incidentally on Shane, still stuck in the sacristy. His scream died in his throat, choked out. In fact, it was only the hole closing on itself. The chapel remained on its feet, still looking dilapidated. And Shane was within its walls by Ryan’s fault.

-

Even though a thick wall of rocks was separating them, Shane could hear Ryan panicking on the other side.

Some rocks had fallen in the midst of chaos, forcing Shane to take a step back. One had hit his ankle, which hurt a bit, but Shane couldn’t see if it was a serious injury; he couldn’t see anything at all. The last source of light, that is to say, the hole that had just been shut down, had died before him. He was left with Ryan’s screeching voice and the pounding of his fists against the walls.

“Shane! SHANE!! Can you hear me?”

“Yes Ry, I can hear you. Stop panicking.”

Shane could almost picture the look on his face when he heard his sigh of relief.

“Oh thank fuck. Are you alright?”

He didn’t want to alarm Ryan any more than he probably already had by being the one who remained stuck in the sacristy. He knew he wouldn’t forgive himself if this happened to Ryan.

“I’m fine. I can’t see anything though.”

“Don’t move, the entity is probably after you! I’ll find a way to get you out.”

_ The entity? _ Of course Ryan thought this was about spirits and shit. A little gush of wind across the pews of the chapel, a passage of the Bible and Ryan Bergara was screaming at the top of his lungs.

But not moving was not Shane’s best option right now. The only way to see something and assess the situation was to get his flashlight back. Flashlight that had stayed in the chapel itself. Shane cursed between his teeth, gathered the last bits of courage he had in himself and headed blindly into the pews’ direction.

After bumping into rocks and walls, he finally got to the altar. Thankfully, his flashlight was still working. Shane hurried towards it, feeling relief wash over him. But as he crouched to pick it up, something brushed against his hand. It made him jolt back to a standing position, his flashlight in hand, its light skimming on the floor. Shane could swear the thing touching his hand was a mouse or even a rat, but it was too quick for him to spare a glance.

His breathing had picked up, and his determination to leave this place too.

“Ryan, I think there are rats here!”

He didn’t even know why he said it. Ryan didn’t care about rats. And a place so dilapidated and old had rats swarming in it for sure. So why was he feeling at such an unease here?

If he focused on what he heard, the silence was slowly turning into an orchestra of little squeaking, running, scratching noises. There probably was a load of rodents at his feet.

Just as he thought so, another animal brushed past his hurt ankle. This time he wasn’t exactly startled, but he shone his flashlight where the rat was supposed to be.

Nothing.

These damned creatures were too fucking fast for him.

_ If only Obi were there, he would be more than happy to run after them. Maybe eat one or two.  _ But Obi was far from here, and Shane was alone with maybe a thousand rats in the pews of this chapel.

_ Hurry back to the sacristy _ , his mind whispered to him.  _ You’ll find a way to exit this church there. _

_ And a dozen rats, too. _

_ What’s worse, staying in this creepy place forever or feeling, what, two rats biting on your shoes?  _ his brain asked, ironical.

The thing was, Shane didn’t particularly like rats.

He turned on his heels. The candles were lit, a few moments ago, right? 

It was probably just the gush of wind.

_ What wind, you big bafoon? _ Ryan’s voice was apparently the voice of reason now. This was new.  _ There’s no way wind could enter this chapel. There are no entrances and no exits. _

Okay, yeah, that was weird, and Shane still couldn’t explain what had happened in the pews earlier. And how the candles were lit earlier.

Ryan had forgotten his own Bible in the chapel. Shane’s foot hit it before he saw it. 

He shone his flashlight on it.

It was open on Sodom and Gomorrah’s passage.

“What the-” Shane let out.

Turning on his heels, he tried to maintain a calm breathing. But frankly it was hard, in the midst of the squeaking, and the scratching. Wait, the scratching was his own; he was still scratching at his arm.

“If this is a joke, it’s a really bad one, Ry.”

His tone betrayed him a bit. Shaky. Not so sure of himself.

Ryan had probably found a way to enter the chapel and was hiding inside, playing really mean tricks on him. Maybe trying to make him believe in ghosts and what nots.

“O-kay, I’m leaving now. If you wanna be stuck in here, then suit yourself!”

What was this all about, anyway? Not turning back unless you wanna get yourself transformed into a salt statue? He really didn’t understand Ryan’s game. All of this, for what? Proving him that ghosts were real? Scaring him? Well it wasn’t going to work.

Shane got into the sacristy. The squeaking hadn’t disappeared, it was even louder in here, as if the rodents were right below him, running between his legs. He could feel movement, he could feel contact; as if they were swarming on the floor.

He just wanted to get out of here at this point, not even caring about seeing the rats. Shining his flashlight at the wall, he could recognize the large rock that had just fallen to shut the hole. In fact, it was easy to push away, and Shane could have done way sooner if only he had seen it. He was out in no time, and not one single rat followed him outside.

But the first thing he came to as the sun’s light forced him to squint was Ryan, hunched over himself. Having a panic attack.

“Ryan!”

Whatever meters separated them earlier were crossed in the matter of seconds. But Shane knew that Ryan needed his space. Didn’t need to be touched. Needed Shane at his side, talking to him, distracting him.

His breathing was erratic, and his eyes, glazed over. He was looking at Shane as if he was, himself, a ghost crouching to his left and putting on a reassuring face.

This wasn’t the first time he had to deal with a panic attack coming from Ryan, so he knew what to do and what not to do.

“Breathe with me, Ry. 1, 2, 3, and in… 1, 2, 3, and out…”

His smaller friend tried to speak, but he only let out a choked noise, followed by gasps for air. Shane ached to put a hand on his shoulder, to wrap him into a hug, but… Not now. He knew this would only worsen things.

“Don’t talk, Ry, just breathe. 1, 2, 3, and in…”

He was slowly breathing on his own again. Regaining a bit of colors and composure. But he still looked exhausted.

Shane was crouched next to him, on his bad ankle, but he couldn’t care less. Everything that had happened to him in the chapel, what he had considered a bad joke, all was forgotten when he had seen his best friend in such distress.

“You’re- bleeding…” Ryan succeeded in saying without gasping too much.

“It’s nothing. I’m sorry I left you alone.”

“I’m the one- who left you- alone!”

He seemed inches away from dissolving into tears. Shane got closer and Ryan melted into a hug. A desperate one. He was clutching Shane’s shirt as if he had left him for days.

Shane was hushing and whispering things like ‘You’re not at fault’ and ‘It’s okay, it’s over now’. After a few seconds, Ryan showed him the main reason of his panic attack. His phone had died.

“I tried to call you and then its battery just… Died. I screwed up! I’m the one to blame for all of this, absolutely all of this! I mean, I’m the one who had the idea of coming here, I’m the one who left you stuck in here… You’re here because of me! If we die here it will be my fault!”

He was talking so fast Shane didn’t think he was even breathing anymore.

“Ryan, none of this is your fault, I assure you. We’re going to be fine. I mean, mostly fine, if we avoid those goddamn rats.” he laughed half-heartedly.

“Rats?”

“Yeah, the chapel was packed with rats, didn’t you see them?”

Then, he saw it. What Ryan was clutching during his panic attack, which was now scattered next to him.

“Wait, you had your Bible with you?”

“Yeah, I held onto it. Why?”

Shane’s mind was running wild, trying to link the pieces together. Ryan hadn’t been in that church. And his Bible had always been with him. So what he saw on the dusty floor… was probably another Bible, right? Churches have dozens of them. It just happened to be open on the same passage as the one on the altar. No biggie.

But Ryan wasn’t completely stupid, and he could tell by the sudden paleness of Shane’s face that something was wrong.

“Shane, why do you ask?”

“Oh, I just thought you left it in the chapel.”


	5. Gola

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "i fainted, as if i had met my death. and then i fell as a dead body falls"  
> Canto III, Inferno, Dante Alighieri

“So, do you see ‘em?”

“I already told you, Ryan: No. There’s nothing here.”

Crouching in the dust trying desperately to find some cereal bars Ryan had insisted on leaving for the ghosts to feast on was definitely not what Shane Alexander Madej had planned on spending his 27th - well, 26th of October. Nope. He’d much rather be in Venice, packing his bags for their last trip on the airplane.

His heart stopped at the last word. It was probably midday by now, and their plane was planned to take off at 2 in the afternoon. So, in short, they were never going to be on the plane.

Sara, Finn, his parents, Obi… He’d never see them again because he’d die stranded on a dusty island. _If they could see me right now, they’d be laughing their asses off, because I’m pretty sure I look ridiculous._

_I’m literally about to starve to death because Ryan Steven Bergara graciously offered our last cereal bars to ghosts before they could even think about eating our souls instead. Oh but it could be worse: he could be insisting that I wear the stupid plague doctor mask while doing so._

And yet pointing this out or even talking about home, or the plane was out of the question.To be honest, this was the least of their problems right now. Both his and Ryan’s stomachs were growling furiously. They were hella hungry.

“I’m sure I left them here somewhere. Look, there’s even the white cross we left on the floor!”

Shane followed Ryan’s look. All that was left of the cereal bars were crumbs, scattered in the dust. Even the plastic wrappings on which Ryan had graciously put underneath them were gone.

“They’re gone…” Ryan whispered more to himself than to Shane.

The white cross layed on the dusty floor, nagging him. _Oh man,_ Shane thought. _I’d kill for a Twix or a Sneakers or whatever fucking cereal bar right now._ And judging by the look on his face, Ryan was probably thinking the same thing. God, this was going to be a long day.

“Of course they’re gone, you left our only food free for rats to feast on!” Shane exclaimed, coughing at the end of his sentence.

“There are no fucking rats here, Shane!”

He froze, glaring at Ryan as if he’d just slapped him. His voice felt like a whip. He actually took some time before biting back.

“The fact that you didn’t see them is not enough for you to say that they’re not here.”

“Look who’s talking. When it’s rats, you’re the one in the right, but when it’s ghosts, then I’m just a lunatic!”

Shane gave up, sighing. Ryan was obviously tense because of their current situation, something Shane could very well understand. He’d just wish Ryan wouldn’t take out his anger on him like that. He was tense, too.

“We left a recorder here?”

Surprise tainted Ryan’s affirmation-question. He’d walked to the EVP recorder carefully installed in a corner of the room. Shane, however, didn't move an inch. The recorder didn’t matter to him as much as food did.

“Hm. I guess we did.”

“Did we retrieve all our stuff when we packed our things? I can’t remember.”

Good question, because Shane couldn’t remember, either.

In fact, he couldn’t remember with precision what he had done in Venice, the day before. This wasn’t really alarming, because he used to forget what he had eaten for breakfast all the time. But now that he thought about it, it was as if all the details of this morning and the day before were being slowly erased, or at least faded from his memory.

 _We went to a chapel, I almost got stuck there and Ryan’s bible was in there but it wasn’t. Ryan had it with him all along. Also rats almost fucking ate me this morning._ That he could remember. He could remember today’s date, 26th- _no, 27th,_ he immediately corrected himself. Weird, how the 26 had come to his mind almost naturally.

_The 26th of October was yesterday, yesterday existed, we were in Venice and we ate pizza. That definitely happened. There it was. Shane wasn’t losing it at all._

But he didn’t feel too hot. Of course, there was the fact that he was starving, but it also felt like like his skin was itching. As if a thousand mosquitoes had established a realm on his whole body. Also, it was hard to breathe, but that was probably due to the dust in the air. As if on cue, his throat felt constricted and he had to cough for a some long seconds.

“I’m gonna step outside. Too much dust.” Ryan made a noise that probably meant ‘Go, I’ll stay there’, but resembled a low grumble.

Shane huffed. Why was Ryan so obsessed with these fucking cereal bars, or with an EVP recorder, or with ghosts and demons? It wasn’t as if any of those were going to magically appear out of nowhere. Right now, there were more important things at stake than filming a goddamn Unsolved episode and search for ghost evidence. Like, not starving, for example.

If they so desperately looked for food, then the woods seemed a better idea. They could stumble on berries or things like that. ‘Things like that’ most likely included animals, big or small, and that unsettled Shane, but it didn’t mean it was going to stop him from going. Except he knew nothing about survival and what berries to eat; he’d probably die of intoxication. _Damn, if I’d known we’d get stuck on an island, I would have accepted the scout course when I was 7._

The woods seemed a better idea than staying in that dusty hospital anyway. Shane didn’t know why, but returning to the woods didn’t scare him as much as staying inside - probably because nothing could fall on his head there. One idea was persistent in his mind though: _let’s get ourselves as far away from the bell tower._ So persistent in fact that it resembled obsession: he had almost forgotten Ryan was still in there when he found himself still walking aimlessly in the woods.

The bell tower loomed behind him, visible even through the leaves.

His foot hit a semi-buried in the mud EVP recorder.

* * *

“What the fuck?”

Ryan had never really been eloquent with his thoughts when confronted to the mysteries of cursed places, but he wasn’t filming or being filmed, so it truly didn’t matter.

The EVP recorder had not only been left behind in the hospital, but it had also been left behind recording. And it had recorded all night, while they were sleeping, and even when they were waiting for Alessandro, or in the chapel. In short, when they weren’t there to hear.

After minutes of fiddling with the device, Ryan had finally succeeded in finding the recording.

“Shane, come see this!” Fuck, right, Shane had left. Well then, Ryan didn’t need him to review the recordings. Shane would probably have tried to undermine his judgement of ‘paranormal noises’.

But deep down, Ryan knew all of this was true. Knew that Alessandro’s absence, the weird coincidence of both their phones indicating it was the 26th of October again, the whole episode of the chapel, all these things were messages sent by the ghosts of Poveglia and meant for them. They just had to open their ears. And if Shane was going to ignore those signs, Ryan was going to be the one to actually lend an ear.

He pressed ‘play’.

For approximately thirty seconds, all Ryan heard was the usual silence, interrupted by what were obviously animals outside. But he wasn’t losing hope. He was maybe a little desperate and still very twitchy from his insomnia, but this had to have a meaning. They couldn’t be trapped here for nothing.

He fumbled to grab his dictionary in his backpack, setting the EVP recorder down on the floor. _Just incase,_ he told himself. _Just incase I hear a word I don’t understand._

At the precise moment he was beginning to question why he had even thought about this working, Ryan heard something that sent chills through his whole body.

A voice, that sounded eerily like a laugh. A demented, maniacal laugh. Almost delirious, as it grew on high-pitched notes.

And it sounded eerily like Ryan’s voice.

He froze, his hand still clutching the dictionary, eyes falling on the EVP recorder carefully put on the floor. The recorded laughter, sounding somewhat stifled at the beginning, quickly became more audible. It filled the room Ryan was in, almost echoing itself against the fragile walls of the hospital.

Several things about this were fucked up, and Ryan could have made an exhaustive list of these reasons, were it not for the panic that had settled in his brain. _This is a dream. I’m dreaming. I’m hallucinating. I did not laugh like that. I never laughed once on this goddamn island._

_So why am I hearing myself laugh like this? Did I ‘sleep-talk’? Or ‘sleep-laugh’? I didn’t even sleep in the first place!_

Maybe it was a demon imitating him and mocking him. Yeah, that was probably it, although not much reassuring.

Okay, maybe a little, because hearing himself so delirious and mad was making Ryan really, _really_ uneasy.

The demented laughter ceased, and the recorder went back to its usual twitchy silence.

 _Fuck this,_ Ryan decided in a moment of lucidity. He didn’t crouch to pick the recorder, he just ran towards the exit, the next room where Shane and him had found a hole big enough to enter the hospital.

Oh, how he regretted letting Shane go outside, even only for a matter of minutes. _I must find him,_ he thought, his anxiety eating at him.

What if the demons had targeted him while Ryan was in here?

Ryan stopped dead in his tracks upon entering the next room. There was no big hole to be seen in the walls of the next room. Only dozens of graffitis and tags when he shone his flashlight on them.

And to say that it was midday… But the light seemed to penetrate only rooms that had fucking holes in them. Holes that this room didn’t seem to have.

Ryan cast distraught glances on the walls. Was this the right room? Suddenly, he wasn’t so sure of it. He could have very well mistaken this room for another.

But again Shane and him had only superficially visited the hospital, fearing the ruins would cave in on them… So there was no way Ryan could get lost again. He almost ran back into the room where he had found the recorder, but he dreaded having to do this; he dreaded the thought of the laughter erupting from that little object on the floor. So he didn’t move.

He was still pressing the dictionary to his heart as if it were a Bible. His was in his backpack. He could feel the weight of it in his back. _I have a Bible and holy water,_ he thought. _So come at me, ghosts and demons. I’m not scared of you. I’m not scared of you!_ Telling them to ‘come at him’ was maybe not the best idea; it almost made him sound a lot like Shane. He was addressing them. Taunting them, even. In his mind, but ghosts and demons could probably read his mind anyway.

Could they?

Then the laughter rang again from the other room, making his heart jump in his chest.

Ryan was scared shitless.

It sounded like the device was damaged, repeating the same moment, the same hiccups of mad laughter, the same high-pitched sounds with a crackle. The EVP recorder had either set itself on again, or it had recorded the same laugh again later in the night. Either way, Ryan was not having it.

“Stop it!!” He hollered, as if this was going to work. “STOP IT!!”

It only continued, mocking him, going back to the same hiss and the same maddening laughter.

 _Fitting, for an asylum,_ a sick little voice whispered in his ear.

Bizarrely, Ryan remembered only then that he had a GoPro and could actually film what was happening to him. Why? He didn’t really know himself; maybe to assure himself that he wasn’t completely going nuts.

“I’m stuck in the hospital alone- and- Shane is outside I think,” he explained in a wavering, panicked voice as soon as the red light of his camera flickered on his chest. “And the EVP recorder in the other room just set itself on blasting- blasting this… And I don’t know if I should go back to that room…”

Then, silence fell. Ryan’s whole body was trembling.

Then, his flashlight went out: darkness fell in the whole room. Ryan’s throat let out a panic-stricken cry.

The little red LED of his GoPro was the only light he could latch on, but it wasn’t enough at all. Ryan couldn’t see a single thing. Despite having to confront rooms plunged in the dark all the time, he knew this room was different. it shouldn’t have been so dark. It was midday. At least some rays of sunshine should have pierced through.

Then, his flashlight turned back on again, as if this room had a lightswitch. But Ryan almost wished it didn’t. The thing with darkness was that it prevented you to know what was going on.

There were cereal bars at his feet, arranged in a line, like the rocks that Tom Thumb left behind him to find his path again in the kids’ tale. Not just crumbs, or plastic wrappings; no, these were full. They led back to the room Ryan had just left - the room where the EVP recorder was waiting for him.

Ryan didn’t know what to say. No swear words, no quips, nothing to declare. His soul might just have left his body, to say the truth. It felt like blacking out for some seconds as he could do nothing else but contemplate the cereal bars on the floor, dumbfounded. He reached for one, showing it to the camera. They were very real; he could hold one. Smell the chocolate, even.

Someone - or something - was playing with him.

He followed the cereal bars. He was letting some Twix bars guide him back into the room, and the absurd of the situation didn’t seem to hit him yet.

They ended on… nothing. The recorder had disappeared.

As if someone had taken it, as if it had never existed in the first place.

* * *

The EVP recorder didn’t give any proof of ghosts’ existence - as expected. Shane tsked, almost laughed.

"At least try a little more, you guys. You're giving Ryan and the Boogaras a pretty hard time right now."

Why would Ryan leave one recorder in the wild? All it would record would be the sounds of animals, of insects… But the recorder only hissed from interferences. Nothing apart from that. 

Shane realized he was still scratching at his arm, leaving red marks. God, he really had to stop doing that. It wasn't even from the stress, it may never have been. But the itch just kept growing on his whole body, and he felt exhausted and hungry and thirsty. Maybe a bit too much for it to be normal. In fact, he had been walking in a dazed state, straight ahead, leaving Ryan alone. That wasn’t like him. He just hadn’t… thought about anything apart from _getting as far away as possible from the bell tower. Why would I think about the fucking bell tower? Ryan’s still in the hospital, for fuck’s sake._

But still the bell tower loomed over him, still visible through the leaves, and it felt forbidden to look at it for too long. It gave him a sort of headache, pouding on his temples, or maybe he had had that migraine before raising his eyes to the bell tower. The light of day wasn't really helping.

He'd turned on his heels, ready to bolt back to the ancient asylum, when a groaning stopped him.

It didn’t come from the recorder: Shane still had it in his hand. It came from behind him, and it sounded like some kind of dog snarling. But behind him, absolutely nothing except trees, a mossy soil, ferns and trees again as far as the eye could see.

The groaning returned, louder, right in his ears. It sounded like a dog.

Or maybe the buzzing of a fly.

Or maybe a moaning. A very human voice, calling to him.

Shane suddenly didn’t know what he had heard exactly, and that alone was enough to send him in a panic.

 _Okay, maybe it’s time to run,_ he thought, in a frenzy.

His legs were abnormally heavy; it felt like moving in a dream, sluggishly, as if he was drunk. Yes, saying he felt like one does when drunk was the best phrase to describe it. His head was heavy too, as if his brain was weighing a ton and his skull was leaning towards the ground. Every movement was clumsily executed, and Shane felt as if he could have fallen over. So it wasn’t exactly a surprise when he did just that, tripping over a root and hitting the ground.

He fell as a dead body falls.

Shane lost consciousness when the groaning and buzzing and moaning noises closed their claws on his feverish mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> every note i'm gonna begin is gonna be apologies at the beginning, i swear to fuck  
> anyways thanks for being patient! i encourage you to go on wikipedia, 'Inferno (Dante)' if you wanna look for the parallels between the circle of Gluttony and this chapter  
> see you on the 26th of October!


	6. Avari & Prodighi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Should I stay or should I go now?  
> If I go there will be trouble,  
> And if I stay it will be double."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, look at the date

Once, a kid in school called Ryan Bergara ‘obsessed’.

It was probably because he had talked about the paranormal again, got himself into a conversation he would be very passionate about - _you don’t understand, i’m telling you la Llorona exists_ \- and had unsettled the other kids with his stories.

It wasn’t even said with mean intents, without the usual bite bullies put in their words; yet Ryan punched the kid anyway. A weak punch in the shoulder that sent him landing on his butt. Trying to save his reputation actually worsened the whole thing: from ‘the kid who’s obsessed with the paranormal’, people began to perceive him as ‘the borderline crazy kid who’s also obsessed with the paranormal’.

_Think before you act, Ryan. What you wanted to prevent happened solely because you acted irrationally._

If there was one thing Ryan hated most of all, it was to appear crazy. During childhood people had judged him, even his parents, said to him he was verging on obsession.

_I am not obsessed. I am perfectly sane, he thought, erratic._

Shane out of all people knew this about Ryan. Knew that this was the only thing that could send Ryan in a fit of rage: talking about him losing his wits. He carefully avoided the subject, and simply never said things like ‘You’ve gone completely mad’, only told him he didn’t believe ghosts weren’t real.

But people didn’t believe you were sane so easily when you had absolutely no proof to back up your sayings. This was why Ryan seemed ‘obsessed’ to some people; he looked for evidence like no other. Maybe sometimes he looked for it where there was none, maybe sometimes he didn’t know when exactly to stop and give up, but that didn’t mean that he was crazy. Hell no. Ryan Steven Bergara was just as sane as Shane, and he was tired of hearing people try to undermine him, telling him he was less rational than Shane, less intelligent, more foolish, or things like that.

 _Well, fuck you. You’ll be greatly surprised when you’ll see what I just captured on camera._ Ryan didn’t really know who he was addressing anymore - his shaniac audience, his parents, Shane? - but it didn’t really matter anyways. _Just wait ‘till I get back to LA, get this episode ready and post it. The Shaniacs out there are gonna lose their tits._

The mental image actually made him chuckle internally. But for that, he only had to find a way to get back to LA. In other words, a way to leave that god-awful island.

 _Easy,_ Ryan had thought in all his brilliance. _We just have to ask the ghosts._ As ‘crazy’ or ‘obsessed’ as it seemed, Ryan had found that they were obviously playing with him, leading him into rooms with Twixs and making disappear his EVP recorders. He just had to adapt and follow their lead.

_We didn’t come here for nothing. I can’t accept that._

“I’ll be filming this, if you don’t mind”, he declared in a voice that he wanted confident, but probably came out as an awkward croak.

_Always be respectful of what you don’t know, Ryan, his mom had once told him. Whether it is about someone or about the paranormal._

His lonely voice bounced on the walls. He was sitting directly on the floor. His flashlight was carefully put in front of him, illuminating his face. His camera, too, was in front of him. Ready to be grabbed if he needed to run. _Run where? I’m stuck here and I don’t know where to go. I didn’t even go that far into the asylum._ _They’re the ones who are going to tell me where._

Ryan frowned as he flicked the pages of his dictionary, searching for words to communicate with the ghosts. When he thought about it, Shane and him had spent their time outside, not even doing their usual investigation, because Shane wouldn’t stay inside. Wouldn’t let Ryan visit the asylum, or even the bell tower, which was not less than the most famous spot on the island. Why was that? Was his friend… scared?

_Well, I’m not._

“You are obviously keeping us here for a reason. Is there anything you’d like to tell me? I can talk in Italian if you prefer.”

Suddenly Ryan wished he had taken a Ouija board with him. It could have been way easier to communicate, since the ghosts had taken his EVP recorder and the rest of his stuff was waiting for him on deck. In silence, Ryan’s senses were more acute, more perceptive. He was ready for a sign, whatever sign. So he contemplated the wall in front of him. Tags and graffitis, with one a bit peculiar: a man and a wolf on what seemed to be blue paint.

_in bocca al lupo, friends_

It was the last thing that Alessandro had said to them, but Ryan had to admit that he had only understood that ‘lupo’ meant wolf. Then he gasped, remembering his weird dream.

He had dreamt of a wolf alright. Of a she wolf, to be precise, and he didn’t even know why he knew that. There were a lot of things he knew without knowing why.

Like not looking at the water, or- _Papé satàn papé satàn aleppe_

Ryan flinched, springing to his feet as if this last sentence had been whispered into his ear, because that was exactly what he had felt. He hadn’t thought that - he barely even knew what this shit meant. Someone was here with him. Someone was playing with him, making him

_crazy?_

“Who said that? Was it you?” He shouted, gripping his flashlight to his heart. Its light was warm on his chin.

He couldn’t see a damn thing. If only he had gone to force open that door, which was still standing thanks to some sort of miracle and refusing to open… Now he was alone with someone.

It had said Satan. Of that Ryan was sure, as sure as he was sure his heart could give out any moment now. It was beating in his chest with the force of a storm.

_Who lit those candles in the chapel? Who ran towards us in the pews? Who opened the Bible on Sodom and Gomorrah?_

“Who’s here with me?”

A scratching sound answered his enquiry, making him turn around so fast he could have broken his neck. The wall was white where he shone his flashlight. Nothing. No one. Not even a graffiti. It was as if someone had wiped the wall with fresh white paint.

“Come ti chiami?” _(What’s your name?)_ he asked.

The camera was still at his feet, knocked over. But Ryan was not in the state of mind to give a crap about his camera right now. In fact, he had forgotten it was even filming.

And then something happened that made his blood turn icy cold in his veins. Slowly, letters drew themselves on the wall he was facing.

“M - I -”

Ryan drew back with a scream of pure terror, his back slamming against the wall at the opposite side of the one the ghosts were writing on. His back was pressed against it as if he could have started digging in it to go through and flee. His irregular sharp intakes of breaths were the only thing that could be heard.

The letters added themselves without a single noise, as if the scratching was only to capture his attention.

“Mi chiamo Legione”, the wall read when they stopped writing.

“Jesus Christ”, Ryan let out, his voice strangled by shock.

 _Papé satàn papé satàn aleppe_ came in his head- in his ear again, this time in a mocking tone that made the hair stand on his arms.

* * *

"Papé satàn papé satàn aleppe papé satàn papé satàn aleppe-"

Shane awoke to that sound next to his ear, as he lied in the mud, conscience slowly coming back to him. It replaced any sort of thoughts that could have gone through his aching head. At first, he believed someone was crouching next to him, whispering this weird chanting into his ear, before remembering what had happened to him.

He had fainted and the thing blasting voices was the EVP recorder he had found.

_Wait, was the EVP recorder broadcasting voices?_

Shane tried to sit up a little too quickly and found himself seized by dizziness. There were still black spots as he blinked and tried to supress the urge to puke. He still felt hella feverish.

 _I'm probably coming with something nasty,_ he thought. _Shouldn't have slept on the fucking floor in October._

A nasty cold. That was probably the reason why he fainted and hallucinated voices coming from the recorder. No sweat.

Yet the hallucinations appeared real, too real. And they weren't stopping at all. Only growing louder.

"Papé satàn papé satàn aleppe papé satàn pa-"

Gosh, he really fucking hated Ryan's spirit boxes. He hated it with all his guts. As he fiddled with the device to turn it off, he quickly came to the realization that he couldn't find a way to make it shut it.

"-pé satàn aleppe papé satàn papé s-"

"Won't you- fucking stop?"

He threw it in the mud as the sounds only grew louder, echoing itself in the woods. It wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

Shane broke into a sprint, not knowing if it was to flee from the recorder or to get back to Ryan.

* * *

Ryan was staring at the wall with the widest eyes ever.

The letters were traced as if by a multitude of different hands with different writing styles. In black on the white wall. He didn’t know how such a thing was possible, but then again, a lot of weird shit had happened to him today.

He didn’t need the dictionary to translate the inscription. ‘My name is Legion’. And in his head, the rest only played out: _‘for we are many’._ Oh, Ryan knew this alright. Knew what it meant. He had studied this passage of the Bible a long time ago, and it had marked him. How could it not? This was the passage in which Jesus performed an exorcism on a man who was being possessed by multiple demons.

Ryan didn’t think his voice would get out of his throat with more questions, but surprisingly, it let out another question:

“Siete cattivi?” _(Are you mean?)_

This was more a formality than a real question. He just remembered it to be one of the first question that he should ask spirits - if they even were spirits - when using a Ouija board. This time, the scratching noise came from his left side, just near his shoulder. He almost fell to the center of the room, quivering in terror.

It was quicker, this time. Possibly because only one hand seemed to have drawn the answer.

A crescent moon, traced on the wall.

 _You wished for a Ouija board, right?_ Ryan thought to himself. _Well, look at that._ _Which symbol do evil spirits turn to on a Ouija board?_

_A crescent moon. Bingo._

The spirits at work were basically telling him: ‘yes sir, we’re evil and we’ve probably been reading your mind since the beginning. Maybe since the very moment you put a foot on this island’. Of course they were evil. Some ‘good spirits’ would have already provided him with a fucking boat to get the hell out of here.

_Darling you got to let me know_

_Should I stay or should I go_ chose this instant to play in his mind like an old VHS tape.

Ironic.

He went to grab his dictionary, which he had covered in post-its of ready-made sentences he had planned on asking the spirits.

“Che cosa volete?”, he asked, stiff, as if bracing himself for impact. _(What do you want?)_

What did they want from him? Why did they keep him on this island? What secret did it hold?

_If you say that you are mine_

_I’ll be here till the end of time_

This time, nothing happened. At first, Ryan stared, jittery, at the walls, waiting for something to appear.

Then, he saw it. The once closed door had cracked open. An invitation?

Ryan was almost 100% sure - hell, maybe 99% sure - that no one could open this door without breaking down. How could it now be opened as if only pushed by the breeze’s blow?

_Should I stay or should I go?_

He made a step, a single one in the door’s direction, when suddenly he felt something on his shoulder, heavy and gripping him.

Ryan squealed, jumping, and discovered Shane behind him.

This was the second time already Shane’s hand had found its spot on his shoulder, surprising him. For a split second, Ryan had been sure he was about to die at the hand of one of those evil spirits guiding him. But somehow seeing Shane here felt as uncanny as every sign the spirits had sent him.

There were shadows tarnishing his face because of the way Ryan’s flashlight illuminated his chin; it made him look grim. Somber. For a split second, Ryan had thought Shane was possessed by the evil spirits. He saw Shane open his mouth and talk, but only heard: _Papé satàn papé satàn aleppe papé satàn papé satàn aleppe_

“What did you say?” Ryan blurted out, looking at Shane with wide eyes.

“I said, are you alright? You look like hell.”

Ryan took a second to stare at Shane back. It made sense that Ryan had been weirded out by his sudden apparition: his tall friend truly looked like death. They had been separated for what, fifteen minutes, and Shane looked as if he had spent already a week on the island, sporting big blue bags under his eyes, a sick paleness on his cheeks and traces of mud in his hair.

“Are you alright? What happened to you?”

“I got lost”, he replied a little too quickly. “Went into the woods and couldn’t find my way back. Also I fell.”

It obviously was a lie, but Ryan didn’t know what Shane was so keen on hiding. He kept on scratching at his arm and was as fidgety as Ryan had been this morning. Then again, he spared a fleeting glance towards the wall where a crescent moon was drawn in the midst of tags and graffitis. It was still there. Taunting him, as if saying: ‘don’t forget that all of this is real, even if your friend can’t see it’.

“You didn’t notice I was gone for a long time?” Shane finally enquired.

“Uh? Oh, um, no, I lost track of the time. I was looking for my EVP recorder. I think I lost it.”

Part of Ryan longed to admit the truth, as frightening and absurd as it was: that the recorder had disappeared and that he had been lured with Twixs, literal cereal bars. That he had tried to contact the spirits alone, and that it had worked a little too well. That there were evil spirits on this island. Very possibly demons. Demons that had kept them here for a reason Ryan was still trying to figure out.

 _"_ Let's get out of here. This place gives me the creeps." Shane admitted.

 _He would have made fun of you anyway,_ a treacherous little voice whispered in his mind.

_He’d have called you obsessed, or crazy._

He followed Shane silently as he led him to another room where light entered through a big hole into the wall.

"-aleppe" He whispered to himself, as he pondered on the weird chanting he had heard in the asylum. Maybe it was in it that lied the answer of their captivity on this island.

Shane turned to him, pale as if he had seen the Devil himself.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just thinking out loud", Ryan assured him.

Shane wouldn't understand anyway.


	7. Ira

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who knows what lurks in these waters

Ryan almost lost his shoe when he felt his foot sinking into the mud. It made a disgusting sucking noise that made him wince. Like quicksand. Ryan had been terrified of quicksand, once, when he was a kid and didn't know that he would probably never put his feet on quicksand. People were afraid of quicksand but often forgot that mud could trap you just as easily. Maybe not suck you up entirely, but enough to just trap you on the spot, and never let you go again. Just like this island. 

The mud could only mean one thing: they were getting closer to the lagoon, and more importantly closer to the decks where they had left all their stuff. 

Shane’s pacing had gotten quicker. Ryan could hardly follow him when he was walking at a normal pace. So now he was struggling alone not to get stuck, feet planted in the mud.

They hadn’t shared a word. Shane was acting weird, but then again, who wouldn’t feel or act a little weird on this goddamn island? The atmosphere was weird, to say the least. But Ryan could only think about what had happened to him in the asylum. Reluctantly, he had agreed to follow Shane, but the truth was he was hoping to get more stuff to film what strange events were unfolding in the asylum. He clutched the GoPro on his chest.

The evidence was there. Everything had been filmed. Soon, everyone would know what exactly haunted Poveglia.

The woods were soon replaced by swampy waters, with the lagoon as horizon line. They just had to walk along until they found the decks. But Shane wasn’t walking along. He was walking directly to the lagoon.

Then, Ryan saw it, as he pushed away the last branches: near the sandbanks, a bark was awaiting them. It wasn’t attached to anything; just floating there. Ominously empty.

_ How did it get here? _ He thought, before realizing Shane had probably seen it too and was not even questioning its sudden appearance. He was just silently walking to it.

“Shane.” Ryan finally found his voice in the back of his throat. Constricted, raw. “Wait.”

Shane didn’t even turn his head to show he was listening. Didn’t even stop. As if Ryan had called a stranger’s name.

“Wait!” Ryan repeated, louder this time. The first time it was merely spoken, but this time it came closer to a scream.

The bark stood there. Ominously empty. And Shane was now ankles-deep in the swampy waters, still walking so, so calmly toward it. Something was very obviously wrong with him. 

“Shane, stop!”, Ryan pleaded. He was torn between running to get him and staying away from the water  _ Whatever you do, do not look at the water  _ “STOP!”

He didn’t know why he was in such a state of panic, but his whole body had started trembling, his heart was beating so, so fast, and his legs were threatening not to bare with him much longer as he broke into a sprint.  _ Do not look at the water do not look at the water do not LOOK _

“DON’T LOOK!”

Mud splashed around him as he jumped into the lagoon’s waters. The flannel of Shane’s shirt escaped his fingers.

\-----

_ Vieni con me, Shane _

_ That’s my name, _ Shane thought.  _ He knows my name. _

_ If he could get his boat closer, closer, I wouldn’t have to swim. Who knows what lurks in these waters. _

_ Vieni con me, Shane _

_ DON’T LOOK! _

Shane heard Ryan before he saw them. Still, he could not process the words that were thrown at him _Don't look? Don't look at what?_ , hence his eyes falling to the surface of the water. He met their eyes devoid of pupils, their frantic smiles and their bodies floating below him. 

They were the Plague victims, floating around him and below the surface of the lagoon.

The water turned ice when Shane finally felt it was soaking his pants, or maybe the blood in his veins did. Dead bodies, dead bodies everywhere, an infection, everyone dead from the same sickness, and their white eyes and their wide smiles and-

Their hands gripped his pants, yanking him towards the boat. They were trying to drown him. One yank in particular made his feet slip off the muddy soil, and he fell into the waters.

\-----

Shane disappeared into the waters. He was literally knee-deep in them a second earlier, and a second after, there were only splashes and bubbles. Ryan didn’t think and jumped after him. He grabbed his clothes and yanked him to the surface.

“Shane! SHANE!”

Maybe if he shouted his name loud enough all of this would stop.

But Shane fought him, he batted his hands away, he coughed and coughed and coughed again. He was trying to get away, to get away from him! Ryan had to grip his biceps with all of his force.

“WHY?” Shane cried like a madman. “Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” Ryan was disoriented. And even if he couldn’t admit it to himself, he was scared of Shane.

“Stop me. Why did you stop me? I was about to get to him!”

“To- What? Who?”

Ryan looked over Shane's shoulder. The bark had disappeared. It was as if it had never been there in the first place. He had a feeling, like his heart had just sunk into his guts. An hallucination. _Pareidolia._ We are hallucinating. We thought we saw a boat because we wanted to see a boat. Because we wanted to get away.

We.

We saw it, Shane and I. We were two to see it, like the lit candles in the chapel.

But Shane wasn’t making any sense, throwing frantic glances everywhere.

“He was here, in the bark… They were here- You’re sick too, don’t touch me!”

Shane pushed Ryan violently, and Ryan just stared back, shock all over his face. He didn’t know what to say at first, just holding himself as if to protect himself from his best friend.

“Let’s get back to the shore okay Shane? I’m freezing…”

Suddenly Shane looked at Ryan. He truly looked at him, not just a passing frantic glance, he looked at him as if he saw him, finally. As if whatever had possessed him to go to the lagoon had instantly left him. 

His stare changed in seconds. It looked like he discovered just now that he was knee-deep in the swampy waters of the lagoon.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

They reached the riverbanks, not without effort, as if the laggon was tugging at them, preventing their feet from returning to the swampy soil. There was only the sound of the soft waves on the mud as it came in contact. The sound of water.

Their stuff was awaiting them on the decks, as expected. Ryan almost flung at it like an overprotective parent. It was intact. He immediately went for the EVPs and all the cameras he could put in his backpack. Finally. He didn't even think about some dry clothes, didn't even think about Shane. There was only what could allow him to communicate with the spirits and capture evidence.

Wait. Maybe this wasn't pareidolia. Maybe Ryan already had proof, had evidence, because his GoPro...

His GoPro was definitely past saving. The lagoon's waters had damaged it beyond any tiny hope of repairing it. All the evidence was gone in a flash, and all of this because of-

"Are you alright?" Shane enquired with a very, very small voice. He was sitting on a tree's stump, looking disheveled and pale, and cold. He was trembling in his wet clothes.

"No. No, I'm not 'alright'."

That was rich. That was just fucking rich. Was he "alright"? Had Shane even been with him the entire day?

"Tell me, Shane, you did it on purpose, right?" He was on the verge of nervous laughter. _NO._ _Do not laugh._

His own crazy hiccups of laughter echoed in his head, coming from the EVP on the ground of the asylum. _Not his,_ he corrected _._ The demons imitating him. He didn't laugh like this, he would NEVER laugh like this, because Ryan wasn't crazy. Wasn't obsessed.

"This was just some sort of sick, ludicrous joke, right?"

He approached him slowly, clenching his hands into fists. Shane just stared back with an idiotic gaze, watching him carefully with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"You think it's funny to destroy my last hopes, the only evidence I gathered on this fucking island?! You don’t know how scary it was, all alone in this room with this thing-"

"What are you talking about, Ry'-"

"Don't Ry' me, I swear to God."

"Listen, Ryan, I don't know what just happened, I'm just as lost as you, I-"

Shane bowed his head, shaking it softly from side to side, as if he was saying 'no' to his own hands. His eyes were glassy, and Ryan felt guilty, for a second, just for a second, about believing Shane could be the author of such a cruel joke. Ok, he was sometimes a real asshole, but he would never try and erase the evidence Ryan had. He would just... ignore it. Close his eyes.

"It's fine, I know what happened."

Shane looked at him as if he was waiting for him to elaborate, to enlighten him. It was a weird look on him. It made Ryan feel at such an unease he had to look everywhere else than at Shane. He had acted so unlike himself after going to the woods...

His hand caught something in his backpack. The doctor mask. There was only one mask left. Without really knowing why, Ryan was convinced that Shane was the one that had something to do with its disappearance. He hated the mask anyway.

Ryan grabbed his backpack, his mask and suddenly Shane's hand was on his wrist. He let go immediately of his wrist upon seeing the mask in his hand, as if touching Ryan's skin had burnt him. In his eyes there was pure terror at the sight of the mask.

"I'm going back to the asylum." He said in a cold voice before Shane could even argue.

"Have you perhaps lost your mind? You're going back alone?" Shane erupted, before his voice took a sarcastic tone. "Oh, Bergara thinks he's so brave all of a sudden! He's gonna go do some ghostbusting and then maybe Alessandro will come back for us! I'm done trying to look for ghosts! I'm tired of it! In fact, I'm tired, period."

"You may be done with it, but I'm not. So if you're not with me, well then, you're against me."

"What the hell are you tryin' to imply? You still think I'm 'sabotage-ing' your show?"

"Well, YOU tell me." Ryan bit back, frowning so hard he was almost wincing. "Did you plan all of this? Was this your idea? Did you tell Alessandro to wait before coming back to get us just to make me lose my mind?"

"Big fucking news, Ryan: I actually think you lost your mind, for once! I mean listen to what you're saying! You're accusing me!"

"I lost my mind? YOU lost your mind! What the fuck was that, in the lagoon? Did you just jump in the water for fun? You wanted a good swim?" He shouted at the top of his lungs.

Shane didn't reply, only looking as lost as before. A hollow shell of himself, suddenly.

"How's it feel to be the crazy one, huh?" Ryan snarled.

"Then fucking go", was all Shane could get out after a beat, not even raising his eyes to look at Ryan. "I'll be here if you need me; but I guess you won't."

Ryan clenched his fist on the bird mask, before putting it over his face. Who cared what Shane thought about this. Who cared about Shane anyway. Definitely not him.

"No. I guess I won't."

**Author's Note:**

> "Sei smarrito, ragazzo?" = "You're lost, boy?"  
> hope you enjoyed this first chapter! your comments/kudos make my day and keep me going <3  
> if you're having trouble understanding some references, come ask me in dm or on tumblr (same username)


End file.
